


but you pulled me out by the collar of my shirt

by Ingi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blanket Permission, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Emotional Constipation, Humor, M/M, Oblivious Jean Kirstein, Werewolf Eren Yeager, Werewolf Lore, truly terrible diner waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: Jean knows Eren Jaeger as the shithead who sits behind him in History, broke Jean's nose a year ago for an ill-timed comment about his shitty personality he totally deserved, and has been riding Jean's ass for months to get him to sign up for medical school.As it turns out, the rest of the city knows him as the beast who almost ripped some guy apart.Or: Eren is a werewolf. Jean's not about to allow that sort of shenanigans.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115





	but you pulled me out by the collar of my shirt

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose I should be more embarrassed that this disaster is my triumphant return to Erejean fanfic, but there's such a lack of content to begin with that I can't even feel bad lmao. Anyway this is based on [that one tumblr post](https://larissafae.tumblr.com/post/101027663651/whatamievensaying-annabellioncourt-theres-a), and it's been in my drafts since at least September, so please take it away from me so I can finally Rest. To the lovely people who have been leaving comments in my old Erejean stuff: this one goes out to you <3
> 
> Title comes from the song _Summer Skeletons_ , by Radical Face.

Jean knows Eren Jaeger as the shithead who sits behind him in History, broke Jean's nose a year ago for an ill-timed comment about his shitty personality he totally deserved, and has been riding Jean's ass for months to get him to sign up for medical school even though he claims Jean has the bedside manner of Coach Levi when his team is on a losing streak.

As it turns out, the rest of the city knows him as the beast who almost ripped some guy apart.

He doesn't learn of this immediately. Apparently, Armin and Mikasa are perfectly fine with Eren constantly sneaking into Jean's room at ridiculous hours in the morning, unsupervised, and throwing himself on Jean's bed while Jean _sleeps_ , because for the past month or so it's been so much of a regular occurrence that he barely even stirs anymore when it happens. Eventually he's informed that the only reason Eren isn't dripping blood at those times is that he takes advantage of Jean's parents being overseas and showers in his fucking _house_ while Jean sleeps.

Which, granted, Jean wouldn't care that much about _if Eren wasn't a blood-thirsty monster_.

But the point is, Armin and Mikasa aren't even a little bit concerned for Jean's innocent, vulnerable throat being within reach of an unsupervised Eren for hours at a time.

"I seriously can't fucking believe you two," he snaps, tearing the napkin in his hands into even smaller pieces. The waitress of the only diner shitty enough Eren's friends could afford to pay for his meal in is already glaring daggers at him, but fuck that, honestly, he's got way bigger concerns. Like _Eren being a blood-thirsty monster_. "You knew for _how long_ that Eren spends his nights munching on deer and unlucky hikers?"

"It's only really been about a month of the worst of it," Armin says, nervously shrugging his shoulders in what he passes off as an apology whenever he doesn't feel like one is actually needed.

"And it was only one hiker," Mikasa adds, implacable. "Who was apparently a domestic violence offender, and will likely have a full recovery."

"Don't you fucking dare imply Eren has any kind of criteria for whoever he decides isn't worthy of keeping all their limbs, or self-control to enforce it," Jean hisses. "In case you managed to miss the cloud of misery that surrounds me since last year, I've met the guy. He gets prissy when people bump into him and refuse to apologize, for fuck's sake. I'm sure he'd love to chomp on my arm too so I can't eat any of his shitty McDonald's fries anymore."

"And we're not saying otherwise," Mikasa says. Jean can't be sure if it's a dig at him or Eren, or maybe just another of those statement of facts that would be rude as fuck coming from anyone else. "But Eren said he only goes to see you-"

"Breaks into my house, you mean."

"-when it's light out and he's already changed back. Which means he can't hurt you."

She throws him a look that says, clear as day, _but I can, so don't be an idiot about this_. Jean digs into his soggy waffle, considering whether it's worth it to use pouring even more syrup on it as an excuse to not meet her eyes. He also considers pointing out that Eren already hurts him plenty when he digs his elbows into his ribcage while he's allegedly sleeping, but it's not really relevant to the point he was trying to make. Plus, he doesn't want Eren's friends to feel comfortable asking why he lets Eren sneak into his room in the middle of the night on the first place.

"You're taking this very seriously," Armin says, scrutinizing Jean's face like he's trying to read his thoughts from the twitch of an eyebrow or whatever. Also, fucking rich coming from a guy who uses actual _math_ to decide which Hogwarts house each of his friends would get into if Hogwarts were a thing. "Generally you're much more- rational. I didn't expect you to believe us this easily."

Jean stares at him incredulously.

"There's nothing irrational about believing Eren is a blood-thirsty beast." Both Armin and Mikasa nod in resigned acceptance. They're under no illusion when it comes to Eren's _unfortunate_ character. "The werewolf part is another thing entirely, but I guess it explains why there's so many bones in my trash lately. I just thought my neighbor was trying and failing to take up taxidermy, but Eren going on rampages and spitting out his dinner leftovers on his way to my house? That makes way more sense."

Mikasa exchanges a _look_ with Armin, like they're trying to figure out if Jean's being serious.

As it happens, Jean's neighbor is Marco Bott, who cries when he watches animal documentaries. So yes, he's dead serious.

"Uh- nevermind that," Armin says, cautiously. "We just thought you needed to know. Eren wasn't going to tell you, but we didn't think it was fair-"

"I don't want you having one of your little lovers' spats with Eren and getting your face ripped off because he wasn't paying attention to the time," Mikasa interrupts. Then, as if she physically can't let Jean think she cares about his safety, "Eren would be upset."

Jean tries to pretend he isn't blushing by tearing into his napkin some more, but frankly, there isn't much to tear into anymore. So he scatters the pieces on the table and mutters, sullen, "We don't have _lovers' spats_. We have perfectly serious and understandable fights because your brother is a perfect idiot."

"Aww, that's sweet," Armin grins, nonsensically. "You think he's perfect."

Jean would generally just think he's being mocked, but that's not Armin's style. And it's only made worse when Mikasa raises her eyebrows, crosses her arms over her chest, and _glares_.

"I was referring to actual lovers' spats that I'm _sure_ you've been having non-stop since you started dating."

There's only one problem.

Jean _definitely_ isn't dating Eren. Or apparently, much like the whole Eren being a blood-thirsty beast issue, no one bothered to _inform him_ that he was.

Although Mikasa's glare only intensifies, Armin gets Jean another waffle.

He must look truly pathetic.

"So there was no reason to tell you about Eren's condition," Mikasa hisses. "And now I'm going to have to deal with his sulking for _no reason_. And with whatever stupid reaction you have-"

"I just don't really get how you didn't realize?" Armin says, waving his hands in muted frustration. Jean's new fork goes flying, but he's not about to say anything, because the new waffle looks just as soggy as the last one and his stomach's all closed up anyway. "He asked you out. He said he did. And he's been practically sitting on your lap at lunch, and sleeping over every night-"

"He got you a tuner for your violin, for fuck's sake," Mikasa snaps.

Jean sinks further into his seat with a deep groan. Eren's told him more than once that he sounds like a dying cow when he does that, but Eren's not here and he's the root of all of his shitty problems anyway, as per usual, so Jean doesn't really give a fuck.

It's not that he doesn't have a giant, disgusting crush on Eren, because he does. He's man enough to admit it to himself, if not to anyone else. But he wasn't _planning_ on doing anything about it, or at least not without a very detailed plan that would've properly blown Eren's smelly socks off, whether he deserved and appreciated the romance or not. And he definitely would've noticed if Eren had asked him out, because Eren is fucking _extra_ and probably doesn't even know the definition of subtlety. As in, literally doesn't know it. Because he's extra _and_ an idiot.

"He's been _kicking me_ at lunch as always," he says, gritting his teeth and trying to pretend he's not bright red. "How the fuck was I supposed to know that he'd switched from trying to kick me off the seat to _cuddling_?" Of course, in pure Eren fashion, his version of romance looks just like his version of a fight. Of fucking _course_. "And I sure didn't ask him to stay over- neither did he, by the way. He just sneaks into my house at 5 AM and you want me to bother kicking him out?"

"A tuner," Mikasa repeats threateningly, "for your _violin_."

"It's like ten bucks, _Jesus_ ," Jean sighs, finally giving up and burying his face in his hands. And getting syrup all over his left elbow in the process, because it's just one of those fucking days, isn't it. "I thought it was random of him, but I assumed it was just a sad dig at my skills again. I mean, a _tuner_ -"

"It was supposed to be romantic, I think," Armin says. He looks embarrassed to even suggest it, because he too is well aware of Eren's many failings, which clearly extend into his dating life. Which Jean seems to be a part of, whether he knew it or not. _Fuck_. "He said- since you started bonding because of music on the first place- I mean, it made sense?"

They started _bonding_ , as Armin puts it, because Eren found out somehow that Jean plays the violin since he was four and decided to get all up in his face about it, being a giant dick about Jean's skill or lack of thereof. So Jean had to show him, of course, and found out along the way that Eren plays the drums, and then they started meeting for practice, which was really just an excuse for an extended dick contest, and realized they actually sound kind of good together.

When Eren's not too busy throwing his drumsticks at Jean's face for the sake of _bonding_.

"But how could you _possibly_ not realize he asked you out?" Mikasa says, as she amps up the intensity of her glare. Jean's pretty sure he can smell smoke from where she's digging holes into him with her pretty but _freaky_ laser eyes. "He said it went well! What the fuck did you do?!"

And Jean thinks back to a month or so ago, to any moments weird enough that Eren might've been asking him out.

It's hard to pick those out, because Eren's so fucking weird on a regular basis that he only _looks_ weird when he's behaving like a normal human being. But actually, there _was_ one time when Eren was being uncharacteristically un-Eren-like.

Oh _fuck_.

It goes like this.

They're sitting on the ruins of a very old stone wall behind Shiganshina High School, because Jean's now going to public school and that's what you get when you refuse to put up with the rich assholes at Trost. They're sitting side by side but without touching, and Eren's swinging his legs like a child and staring intently at the ground, a deep blush rising up his cheeks for no reason at all.

"Hey Jean," he says, so laughably bad at pretending to be casual that Jean lifts his head from his phone to stare in incredulity. Eren keeps examining the ground for quarters, or whatever it is that's got him so fascinated. "Would we still be friends if I was- I dunno, scarier?"

"We're not friends," is Jean's instant reply. Eren's not only not offended, but he actually _smiles_ slightly, because other people can say whatever they want about their dynamic but it sure is a two-way street. Jean considers the actual question for a moment. "Scarier like what? A biker dude? Coach Levi?" Since Eren doesn't offer any guidance apart from a weak shrug, Jean sighs and says, "You're not _scary_ , Jaeger, you edgy fuck, and no amount of stupid tattoos is gonna change that, but go ahead if you wanna look like even more of an idiot."

Now, a month later, Jean will recognize Eren's complete lack of reaction as a warning sign. But this Jean is whole a month younger and lives in a time when he sleeps through the night without any attacks from Eren's bony elbows, so he just goes back to his phone.

This Jean is an _idiot_.

"What if I was like, a vigilante?" Eren insists. "What if I went out every night and killed some guy for cheating his taxes or whatever?"

"Wouldn't you have to know math to know he was cheating on the first place?" Jean snorts.

Eren makes a wordless noise of frustration and smacks his shoulder into his. This finally makes Jean put his phone away, and he stares straight into Eren's stupid face, which is as scrunched up as it always gets whenever the planets align and Eren decides to work through some emotional shit. It's kind of really fucking endearing.

"Fuck off! I'm serious, asshole! What if I just couldn't control myself and went around hurting people?"

"So business as usual," Jean replies, rolling his eyes. But then Eren's face gets even more scrunched up, in the way it does when he's actually starting to get upset, and his eyes get all sparkly with tears and sure, Eren's a crybaby, but that doesn't mean Jean _enjoys it_. Plus, whenever Eren gets upset he always throws a giant tantrum, and Jean's just not in the mood. "You're so fucking weird, Eren," he says, but he lets his voice get all soft, and Eren's face relaxes marginally. "You think I'd just let you go around hurting people who don't deserve it? I'm like ninety percent of your self-control, it's like my day job at this point. I'm resigned to it, it's fine, _whatever_ -"

Eren huffs.

"Okay, but-"

"Don't be this fucking emo," Jean says. He pushes _his_ shoulder into Eren's this time and Eren smiles, almost for real. "If your personality hasn't already chased me away, clearly nothing can."

And then Jean makes his second, most fatal mistake.

Because Eren grins at him and smacks his arm, as Eren does, but before the conversation can turn into a fight, he grips Jean's arm like his life depends on it and stares soulfully into his eyes. That really should tip Jean off to what's going on, but the thing is, Eren's kind of a pro at staring soulfully into people's eyes. It's just his thing, and it doesn't mean anything apart that he's an intense fucker. So Eren's staring into his eyes and Jean's staring right back, simply because Eren smells weakness and if Jean doesn't meet his gaze at all times with the same intensity, Eren _wins_. He just does. And obviously, Jean can't ever let that happen.

"Jean," Eren says, sternly. "You're an asshole."

"Wow, _thanks_ -"

"A pretentious rich asshole. And your face is stupid, and you think everyone really cares about your opinions on movies- oh, right, _cinema_ \- just because you're French but actually, no one gives a shit. Really. You don't even know what you're talking about, you just read one book by some hipster talking about post-modernism and-"

"I like you too, Jaeger," Jean says, sighing deeply.

Eren stills. As in, completely. Jean doesn't remember ever seeing him that still, and he's actually kind of concerned until Eren squeezes his arm, gentler than usual, and blushes even worse than before.

"Really? Are you serious?"

Jean was actually joking, _obviously_. But he does like Eren, as a friend and also in ways that he tries really hard not to think about, and frankly Eren sounds a little incredulous, and his voice's a little shaky. So since Jean's not a _complete_ asshole-

"Yeah, 'course."

Eren tilts his head in a way that the uninformed observed might even describe as _shy_ , but that's because the uninformed observer has never had the misfortune of actually exchanging more than a word with Eren Jaeger, and probably hasn't been watching him for more than two minutes either. He squints at Jean almost suspiciously, and his hand kind of shakes where it's gripping Jean's arm still, so Jean grabs it and takes it off him.

If he happens to forget to let it go after, and it ends up held against Jean's leg by his own hand, then whatever. It's not like Eren says anything about it.

"So are we-?"

A month later, Jean will kick himself for not letting Eren finish the fucking question. However, it's been established that this Jean is an idiot, so he smugly assumes he knows what Eren's about to ask. What he thinks Eren's asking is: _are we actually friends_ , or something stupid on those lines.

So Jean smiles, mentally patting himself on the back already, and says, "Yeah, I'd say."

Unfortunately, a month later, it will be made apparent that what Eren was actually asking was something on the lines of: _are we a thing now_. As in, a Thing with capital T. So once again, this time with feeling-

Jean from a month ago is a monumental _idiot_.

"Do _not_ try and follow us tonight," Mikasa says, because they've apparently been on werewolf-wrangling duty every night for the past month. "Or any night. Eren isn't able to recognize anyone in that state, so it's really not the best time for one of your pissing contests."

"I realize you're used to dealing with Eren," Jean replies, offended to the core of his being, "but some of us have what's commonly called _self-preservation_. Also, a brain. A functional one."

Mikasa gives him a look that suggests she hasn't seen any evidence of such thing.

"What are you going to do about the- you know, the dating?" Armin says nervously. "Because Eren-"

Jean's really not interested on what Eren might or might not be thinking, if he's thinking anything at all, which would frankly be out of character for him. He also doesn't have a plan apart from not fucking everything up, and that never seems to work out for him somehow, so. Great. Just great. Plus, the waitress is approaching their table with the determination of someone who is about to extort a tip worth double of the meal for her troubles, so it's the perfect time to walk away. Power walk, even.

"I'll figure it out," he says, hurriedly standing up and squeezing out of the booth. "Don't worry."

"Well, that's reassuring," Armin mumbles, rolling his eyes. "Jean-"

"Thanks for the waffles! Bye! SeeyouinclassIguess!"

Jean escapes with all the contents of his wallet and at least some of his dignity. Unfortunately, he leaves his ability to sleep peacefully behind, along with his innocence and half of his left shoe's sole after stepping on waffle syrup and having to tug his foot free.

At exactly 4:48 AM, a warm lump that smells like Jean's very expensive coconut shower gel makes the mattress dip.

Jean opens a bleary eye to look at his digital clock, just so he knows the exact time and can properly complain about this when he feels more like a human being, and then immediately closes it again. The warm lump scoots closer and presses its freezing nose against Jean's naked shoulder. He'd been sleeping with a shirt on for the past few weeks because Eren always, always does that when he breaks in and Jean can feel the cold even in his dreams, but he forgot this time, so this is what he gets.

He instinctively tries to sink back into sleep, as usual, but he finds himself opening his eyes again and staring up at the ceiling with something not unlike the existential dread that comes to him at 3 AM before a school day sometimes.

Eren smells like pine trees under the shower gel, and a strand of his wet hair somehow sticks up and tickles Jean's neck.

Eren was just using Jean's shower to wash off blood from whatever it is he caught, be it a rabbit or yet another unfortunate hiker, while he was in his werewolf form. Eren was using _Jean's_ shower because somehow, impossibly, he's convinced he and Jean are dating.

"Jean?" he mumbles, a low, startled noise caused by Jean shifting so he can attempt to stare at Eren in the darkness.

The curtains are still drawn, even though Jean's sure if he were a werewolf he'd appreciate taking in the morning sunlight that allows him to not be a werewolf, even if it meant poorer sleep quality. Which it does. Jean's read studies. Eren hasn't, but he was apparently listening when Jean ranted about it, and he either cares about his own sleep, which is unlikely, or about Jean's, which is perhaps even more unlikely but makes Jean's throat close up like he's watching _The Notebook_ for the fourth time.

Maybe Eren just knows that Jean would drag him outside by his shitty haircut if he dared disturb Jean's sleep any further.

"Hey."

"'ou awake?" Eren says, barely enunciating.

Jean sighs and pulls him closer by the collar of his shirt, which is actually, judging by the feel of it, one of Jean's.

"Yeah, you're loud," he replies, which is true, but hasn't really been a problem before. "Why do you always come over at this time?"

It feels kind of wrong to interrogate Eren while pretending he doesn't already know the answers, but Jean doesn't know what else to do. Eren's a stubborn shithead, and Jean knows out of experience that he won't give up without a fight. Even now, Eren's gone suspiciously quiet, trying to think of an answer that won't give away any of the secrets he's been keeping.

"You never invite me over or anything," he finally says. He's a terrible liar, which means he found an answer that is the truth, just not the _whole_ truth. "I figured you'd be less likely to kick me out if you were half-asleep when I came over."

Eren's eyes shine in the darkness, just a little bit, and Jean knows it's only a trick of what little light there is or maybe a werewolf thing, but he feels like the worst creature alive. Worse than a worm, and worse than whatever lives in the walls of the shitty diner Armin and Mikasa took him to.

"You don't need an invitation," he says, swallowing hard. "Idiot."

Eren measures his sincerity with those enormous, terrifying eyes of his. Even though Jean has said the exact opposite in many, many occasions, clearly there's something in his barely illuminated face that Eren can put his trust on, because he dips his head, just barely, like he does when he's pleased but doesn't want to show it. Jean thinks he can see his lips quirking into a small, almost private smile, something to be shared only in the dark.

Whatever it is that is rising in Jean's chest and rapidly expanding, it _burns_. Kind of like vomit. Which is exactly how Jean would've described falling in love with Eren Jaeger before it happened.

He leans forward and presses his lips against Eren's cheek, shaking with how stupid the whole situation is. He's _fond_ and he's angry and Eren's gone all still like he doesn't know what to expect, which is fine because Jean doesn't either. They're both waiting on Jean's next ill-advised move. Which happens to be kissing Eren's other cheek, and then his chin, because Jean's a romantic at heart, or as Marco puts it, a big fat sap.

"Okay," Eren says, quietly. "Douchebag. There's a _Die Hard_ marathon tomorrow- your TV's bigger so I'll be over after lunch."

"Okay. But you bring the snacks, freeloader," Jean replies, and kisses him.

Eren's shaking a little bit under the kiss, but then again so is Jean. Every single one of his nerve endings is alight. He probably looks like the scrawniest Christmas tree ever, it's a miracle he isn't lighting up the room with a shitty multi-colored glow. Eren kisses like he's got nothing to lose, just like he does everything else, and Jean cups his face in his hands and makes him slow down, _calm the fuck down Eren_ , kisses him softer because he knows better, knows the shape of Eren's fear and how to do something with care, keep it safe.

"Don't wanna hurt you," Eren mumbles against his mouth, like for once he's thinking about it too.

Or maybe he's thinking about the reason he's almost doubled Jean's water bill in the past month. Either way.

"You punched me in the face after ten minutes of knowing each other," Jean says, pulling away and almost rolling his eyes. "There's nowhere to go but up."

"You deserved it," Eren replies, grinning.

He scoots closer and buries his face in Jean's neck. Jean says nothing, only wraps an arm around him, even though the shirt Eren's wearing is kind of wet and his arm's going to fall asleep in approximately five minutes.

He dreams of Eren with blood on his teeth.

They do get through the entire _Die Hard_ marathon, because Eren likes the violence and Jean appreciates classics, even if that doesn't stop him from criticizing everything from the plot to the filming itself until Eren kicks him so hard that Jean's sure there's going to be a bruise on his leg very soon. But it's not so bad, not when Eren offers him an apology make out, and then stops hoarding the popcorn for the next movie.

But an hour to dusk and Eren leaves, ignorant or uncaring to the fact that his bumbling excuses couldn't fool a two-year-old, and Jean's left on the couch staring at his knees and- well, sulking.

It's just so fucking stupid, that Eren has to deal with that. And now, by association, _Jean_. Who very much does not appreciate this whole werewolf business. He was vegan for almost two months last year, for fuck's sake, he can't be expected to kiss a mouth that does the thing Eren's does with the poor, innocent animals that cross his path. And the occasional human. Jean's very much not pleased with that one either.

Eren's the _worst_ for thinking he can keep doing the werewolf thing, whether he can control it or not. Eren's the worst in general. Jean's not enjoying this situation.

Before he can stop himself, he's at the door and grabbing his jacket on the way out.

"What did I _say_?" Mikasa hisses. She'd scream if she could, Jean's certain, but there's the small matter of a giant werewolf pacing just close enough to hear if she gets too loud, and Jean suspects said werewolf hasn't eaten anything since he left Jean's house a couple of hours ago. Which, for Eren, is a _very_ long time indeed. "What the fuck did I _say_ , Jean?"

Armin hushes her hurriedly as Eren's wolf head turns halfway in their direction.

"You can't expect me to just _sit home_ when Eren's-"

"Why not?! Since when do you care-"

"Guys, that's enough," Armin whispers. "Please. There's only a few traps set up and none of them are big enough to hold him back for long. I don’t really feel like testing my athletic capabilities today. _Please_."

But Jean just drove his very expensive car, which took him a full year of begging for his mother to even consider allowing him to get, halfway into a forest where it definitely got all sort of scratches and bird shit that will take him forever to fix. And for good measure, he then dragged himself into a trek through mud, dirt, and rocks that his Converse were not designed to handle. He’s not walking out of this goddamned place without Eren on a leash and looking _very_ apologetic.

"Yes, that's enough," he hisses. “That’s enough of Eren thinking he can do whatever he wants and everyone will just jump in to fix his shit.”

He marches towards the figure barely visible in the dying light, drawing its attention away from whatever forest creature it’s trying to hunt. The wolf stares almost curiously, like it's wondering who'd be stupid enough to approach it without fear or weapons. There's no recognition in its unforgivable black eyes, no humanity.

But it's _Eren_ , Eren who argues Professor X from the X-Men is a double-faced coward even though Jean gave him a literal presentation on why that was fucking stupid, Eren who once walked into class with a comb still stuck in a knot at the back of his head. Jean's so fucking done.

"Jaeger!" he yells. "Eren fucking Jaeger."

The wolf startles, rises every so slightly from its crouched position. And then it starts trotting towards them.

"Oh fuck,” Armin mumbles. There’s the sound of his footsteps backing away, faster and faster, as Mikasa swears under her breath and steps closer to Jean like she’s planning on pulling him away. “Fuck no. _No_.”

There's a pile of clothes on the ground, topped by the shirt that Eren stole from him last night. It doesn’t look particularly clean anymore but Jean doesn’t particularly give a shit at the moment. He scoops it all up and throws it at the wolf's face when it gets closer, violently enough that it would’ve given it a concussion had it been any heavier.

"Fuck you Eren, that's _enough_ ,” Jean says, letting his irritation show in every line of his body. "Get over yourself and put your goddamned clothes back on, you fucking furry."

It's not like Jean _isn't_ expecting it to work, necessarily. He just doesn't have much of a plan in mind, apart from not getting eaten by a giant wolf, and he hasn't really considered that Eren might obey, just like that, because for as long as he's known him Eren has made a sport out of not listening to anything Jean says, even if he knows Jean's right. But then the wolf shakes the clothes off and jumps, and there's a great deal of smoke that won't let them see a damn thing, and when it dissipates, Eren's back in his human form, like the most low-budget magic trick ever.

He also happens to still be mid-jump, giving them a perfect view of his very naked body right before he faceplants into the forest ground.

They all scream as one.

What happens next is the most uncomfortable car ride Jean's ever had the misfortune of experiencing, bar none, including that one time Reiner's cousin decided to go down on his boyfriend with Reiner, Connie, and Jean all painfully squished in the back of the car, trying not to see anything and ignore all the noises and watch the road for the driver at the same time, since he was rather preoccupied getting his dick sucked at the time.

Jean's car, his baby, might be fucked up on the outside now, but it's still clearly expensive leather on the inside. They drag mud and leaves all over it, and Jean fights with himself not to scream.

Jean is driving, of course, and that leaves Armin and Mikasa on the backseat, pretending they're somehow unable to hear the argument happening right in front of them but pretending astonishingly badly, because they keep making long-suffering faces at each other when they think Jean's not looking. Like this is _Jean's_ fault, somehow. Like Jean's the pouty toddler throwing a tantrum and they both expected better of him.

"All I'm saying is, you didn't have to be such a huge fucking dick about it," Eren grumbles.

"Fuck you," Jean replies, briefly checking his rear mirror.

He'd just like to make it clear that this is not on him. They're only having an argument on the first place because Eren ill-advisedly decided to slid into the passenger's seat, where he keeps fidgeting like the annoying bastard he is, even though by now he knows better than to be this close to Jean right after Jean's found it proper to yell at him for his life choices. So he's sitting there, in his Superman underwear and a muddy shirt that used to be Jean's favorite for pyjama wear, and with no pants on, because he threw them off with a little too much gusto and entirely too much claw earlier and they're now ripped cloth on his lap.

And he's being a rightful bastard, as Jean's mom would say.

"I didn't mean to hide it from you, I just thought-"

"You were being all emo about it, I know," Jean says, rolling his eyes. Behind him, Armin snickers, then guiltily tries to pretend otherwise. "But I can't fucking _believe_ you're acting like your big ugly secret wasn't you turning into your murderous fursona. Not really the kind of thing anyone should leave well alone," and he throws a dark glare at the backseat at this. The backseat, as a whole, ignores him completely. "Also, once again, fuck you Eren. I drove all the way over to the middle of buttfuck nowhere and got deer shit all over my baby, and got yelled at by the peanut gallery over there even though I was fucking _right_ , and had you throw yourself at me like a _maniac_ -"

"I wasn't really- I wasn't trying to eat you or anything," Eren interrupts sullenly. "I knew who you were by then."

"-and now," Jean continues, undaunted, before Eren can say something stupid like _I was trying to hug you_ or something else that would get Jean blushing unflatteringly against his will, "you're whining at me because I wasn't gentle enough in handling the giant murderous wolf. So fuck you, Jaeger. You ruined my favorite shirt, too."

Eren rolls his eyes, because he doesn't have a single bone of self-preservation in his entire, weirdly attractive body.

"You wear it to sleep, asshole."

"Let's not think too hard about how he knows that," Mikasa mutters darkly.

"Shut up," Jean says to Eren automatically, not processing that Mikasa has spoken until it's too late. And then, because Mikasa's eyes are narrowing dangerously and the temperature in the car is dropping to the kind of frostiness you shouldn't have to bear unless you volunteered for an expedition in the Antarctic. "We're going out for breakfast. I'm paying."

Armin cheers. Mikasa's eyes return to their usual vaguely-disapproving staring, which Jean now knows is a good sign.

"It's 2 AM," Eren says, confused.

"Shut up, Eren."

It's almost weed smoker hour at the local diner, so no one thinks to question Eren's very obvious lack of pants.

The waitress, somehow the same one who served Jean when Eren's friends originally brought up the werewolf topic, does seem to be questioning Jean's life choices, but that's to be expected. He can tell he's not her favorite person in the world, but she still seems concerned for him, eyes quickly glancing from Eren devouring a stack of frankly disgusting waffles like the animal he apparently is to Eren's free hand on Jean's left knee, which he hasn't had the heart to remove.

Maybe he _likes_ having Eren's weirdly warm hand there, fuck the waitress- it's his boyfriend, Jean's been informed, and he does have some rights that Jean will respect, even though the waitress' eyes say _really? this guy? even you could do better_ and a part of Jean not-so-secretly agrees.

In the opposite booth, Armin and Mikasa have been arguing about how Eren managed to turn back human before sunrise for the better part of an hour, but Jean's had a hard time paying attention. Eren's bony knee keeps knocking into his own, and Jean would ordinarily say it's only a result of Eren's frankly appalling personal space awareness, but Eren keeps coyly glancing at Jean when it happens and grinning.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Armin sighs. "All that happened is that Jean yelled at him, which isn't even abnormal for them-"

"It was definitely the yelling," Eren gleefully contributes to the discussion, in-between bites of waffle. Or at least mostly in-between- his mouth is half full, the disgusting prick. "He called me a furry. Obviously I needed human vocal cords to yell back. Douchebag," he adds, to Jean. Under the table, his hand squeezes Jean's knee fondly.

Jean snaps his mouth shut before he says something he regrets, such as _I like you, I like you so much, even though you look like a shitty goth reject_. Just a random example, of course.

"Hm," Mikasa says, which is as close to agreement as she gets when it's obvious she couldn't care less about the topic.

Armin scowls for several blessed minutes of silence. Eren and Mikasa get distracted enthusiastically complaining about the latest terrible movie Jean hasn't bothered to watch, so Jean's the only one who sees Armin suddenly jump on his seat and then freeze, some kind of understanding spreading through his pale face.

Their eyes meet.

Jean watches him look down and quickly type something on his phone, and he's almost expecting it when he feels his own phone vibrate against his thigh. It's the thigh that Eren's hand is furthest from, so he manages to slip it out of his pocket and discreetly check Armin's text under the table. It says, _We did find this lovely English myth when we were researching- the werewolf turns back to human when someone who loves and trusts it calls it by name, or in other versions, throws its human clothes at it_.

"Jean," Eren says, elbowing him in the ribs. "Not even you think it's _artistic_ or anything like that, right? The blood wasn't even dark enough, it just looked stupid."

The waitress chooses that moment to walk by, and Jean frantically flags her down to ask for the bill. Her timing's good enough that Jean's willing to put down a hefty tip this time- there's some sort of favors you just have to pay back. She nods, accidentally catches a glance of Eren's Superman boxers, and nods harder.

Jean studiously ignores her raised eyebrows.

They drop off Armin and Mikasa, and then Jean drives Eren back to his own place. He ignores Eren's silent confusion, and the also strangely silent pleasure that replaces it when he clearly realizes that Jean's not putting up anymore of a fight about this than he did after the first time Eren broke into his house.

"Shower," he demands immediately, pushing Eren towards his bathroom. "I know where you've been and I don't like it."

"Come with?" Eren says with a toothy grin.

Jean startles and stops to look at him. Under all the eyebrow wraggling, Eren looks about as awkward and insecure as always. He doesn't mean it, and he's not even trying to rile Jean up this time- he's just being a dick to fill the silence because Jean's caught him out of guard somehow, and he doesn't know where he stands anymore. It's a weirdly specific experience that Jean's become very familiar with, because it happens way more often than you'd think, and for months back when they'd first met it'd actually been the cause of most of their fights until Jean figured out what the fuck was going on.

But Jean knows how to read the situation now, and he knows what to do, because he's a fucking genius at people no matter how often he gets told he's a huge asshole. It's mostly by choice, okay. And he doesn't much like coddling Eren's ass, but he likes Eren being all upset and uncomfortable way less.

He pulls Eren closer by the definitely-ruined shirt and wraps an arm around him, tight, holding him against his body until he stops shaking. Jean hadn't even noticed he'd been shaking on the first place, honestly, and he bets Eren hadn't either. It's not too bad, Jean thinks, just a fine tremor, almost like delayed shock. Eren's obviously gross as fuck right now, but he's also very warm, and his breath is hot and shaky against Jean's neck but at least there's no tears this time, the giant crybaby.

"Sorry," Eren says, so quietly that Jean's pretty sure he's imagined it. Saying Eren's not great at apologizing is a bit like saying people weren't great at washing their hands before the bubonic plague. History's being made on Jean's now very muddy carpet. "I just- I freaked out a bit, when I saw you. When I could recognize you, I mean. I was sure I was gonna kill you."

"You really can't resist a dig at me, can you?" Jean replies, knowing it's the best way for Eren to recover his equilibrium. Sure enough, Eren pulls away to give him the finger. "Go shower and do your everyday routine of robbery and assault. I'll be passing out in bed as usual. Try not to take a shirt I like this time, and stop elbowing me in the fucking ribs, idiot."

"Stop having elbow-able ribs then."

Eren disappears into the bathroom, cracking up, before Jean can knee him in the crotch. Not that he would, necessarily. But he was definitely thinking about it.

By when the bathroom door opens again, letting out a cloud of steam that makes Jean fear for his smoke alarms, it's almost the time Eren would usually slip into his bed. Jean's almost weirdly nostalgic thinking about it, those times when he didn't yet know what was going on. Now he knows, and it's a fucking mess is what it is. He turns his face away as Eren walks around digging into his drawers, making a loud nuisance out of himself until he finally finds whatever he felt like borrowing today.

"Sorry I don't have any Superman boxers for you," Jean says earnestly, when Eren throws himself on the bed beside him.

He receives an elbow to the ribs for it, of fucking course, but Eren also wraps himself around him like a particularly friendly octopus, so Jean can't find it within him to complain. He's in a good mood, sue him.

"You're an ass," Eren says against his collarbone. "Why am I dating you?"

"Presumably because all those times you said my face made me look like a horse, you were really just thinking about riding me."

Eren splutters in a very satisfying way, and Jean can feel the sudden heat of his face on his own skin. He grins to himself. Eren's hair smells like Jean's outrageously expensive almond shampoo, and Jean's only a little bit annoyed about it. He pulls at Eren's hair until he lifts his head enough that Jean can kiss him, just because he can, and Eren melts against him, all breathy sighs and squirming to get even closer even though there's literally no space between them anymore.

"I wasn't sure you liked me, y'know," Eren mumbles after they're too tired to keep going, hand curling defensively against Jean's chest. "Even after you said yes and everything. I thought you'd be all cheesy and- and affectionate and stuff and you weren't."

Jean waits a second to make sure his voice is steady, squeezes Eren so tight that he whines like the brat he is.

"Just takes me a bit to get going, 's all," he says, trying not to think of all the times in the past month when, looking back, Eren was clearly trying to be all couple-y and Jean barely even reciprocated, much less start it himself. "We can't all just throw ourselves into shit without thinking and make fools out of ourselves without a care in the world, Jaeger. I'm plenty romantic- not cheesy, thank you very much. I'll fucking _show you_ romantic."

Eren snorts, and Jean feels forgiven for something he hasn't really apologized for, nor he plans to, because there's no way he's admitting to Eren he didn't even know they were dating. No way.

"'kay, babe."

"'kay then, _mon petit chou_ ," Jean says, managing to kick his leg.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Eren starts, eyes full of suspicion. He kicks back. "It was something horrible in French, wasn't it?"

"I just called you a head of cabbage," Jean replies. It's true enough, and it's the most sincere use of it right now. If it also happens to pretty much mean _sweetheart_ , he's not telling. He's going to be the best fucking boyfriend in the entire country, now that he knows he's one at all, but he's saving the best pet names for the right occasion, because he suspects that Eren's going to react in new, hilarious ways to them. "Also, I can't believe you took French. You're horrible at French."

"Fuck off."

Jean kisses Eren's stupid forehead, hard. It's not like there's anything in there he should be worried about displacing- Eren's hot but there's still no proof he's got more than the necessary two neurons to make basic connections. But Jean's heart is still rioting over him and his stupid haircut, somehow.

"I like you too," he says, and this time it's exactly how he means it.

By when Eren finally stumbles out of Jean's bedroom in the morning, rubbing his eyes like a little kid but with his shirt riding up over his stomach in a way that makes Jean feel too warm, there's French toast on the table and Jean's just finishing up with the bacon. He's also made coffee, even though he knows Eren loves to hate on his very expensive, very good blend because all he drinks is black shots from grounds that could barely even be used as plant fertilizer, and Jean might have to hold himself back from strangling him for the entirety of breakfast.

"'ullo," Eren mumbles, looking baffled. His eyes keep jumping from the food on the table to Jean and back again like he's following a particularly interesting ping-pong match. "Are you still mad about yesterday? Because just so you know, French toast isn't exactly what I'd choose for my last meal."

"It'd probably be something gross, like four cans of Dr Pepper and a twinkie," Jean replies, rolling his eyes. "But I'm not gonna kill you, stupid. Heart disease will do it for me in just over ten years. I can wait."

He plates the bacon and sits down, encouragingly nodding at the chair in front of him. Eren hesitates, shrugs to himself, and walks over so he can heavily drop on the chair next to Jean. Like a cheap version of heat-seeking missiles, his bony knees knock into Jean's almost instantly. But Jean's not about to lose at this game again, so he's the one to rest his hand on one of those very aggressive knees. Unfortunately, he's left-handed and Eren's chosen to sit on his left side, like an idiot, so now Jean's left trying to awkwardly shove breakfast into his mouth with his right hand, which is pretty confused about what it's supposed to be doing.

"You're so-" Eren starts saying, but never finishes the thought. For some mysterious Eren reason, he's gone all red while watching Jean fumble with his fork. "I always forget you're left-handed."

"Yeah," Jean grumbles back, irritated. The piece of toast he'd managed to hold onto is slowly sliding off his fork.

"Do you- should I switch sides?"

That draws Jean's attention fast enough. He practically swings around to stare at Eren, who's looking down at his shoes through the table somehow, still bright red. He's working himself up to that disgruntled pout that means he knows he's said something butt-fucking stupid but is too proud to ever take it back, so all he's got left is to dig himself even deeper with his own bare hands if he has to while everyone else watches in horror and fear.

"What?"

"Nothing," Eren blurts out. He waves at Jean's hand on his knee with his fork for a second, in almost panicked motions, before he lowers the fork back to his plate in defeat. "Just- nothing."

"Right," Jean says, cautiously. "Whatever." The hand on Eren's knee flexes, almost reflexively, and Eren half-smiles. "Listen- we're going on a date, Jaeger, so if you own anything that doesn't look like it literally belongs in the garbage, _wear it_."

Eren snorts and leans in to kiss him at that, for some fucking reason, but he's all tentative about it like he isn't sure of his welcome. He's smiling in that shaky way of his that says he's waiting for the punch to come, and his body's all pulled tight, which tends to be normal for Eren because Eren's really just a ball of tightly pressed anger, but as far as Jean's limited experience goes, that's not how he's supposed to look in the mornings. So Jean drops his fork and pulls him in, and kisses him until Eren's smile against his mouth feels solid enough to let go.

"So we go on dates now?" Eren says, sounding pleased and a little shy about it.

Eren Jaeger, _shy_. This is some bizarro universe Jean's landed himself in, and he's not planning on leaving.

"That's how dating generally works, dickface," he replies, and watches Eren's smile grow wider. "Also, you already live here half the time anyway whether I like it or not, so I know you don't give a single fuck if you're invited or not, but come by whenever, I guess. But stay away from the carpets. I'm allergic to dogs and I'm not gonna vacuum your hairballs off everywhere."

Eren's smile immediately turns to loud indignation.

"I don't _shed_ \- "

"And if you pee in the flowerbeds, I _will_ kill you, and you're replanting them all and explaining it to _Maman_."

Jean goes into pre-med.

They're at what Jean will forever consider The Worst Waffle Place Ever, where his incredibly obnoxious friend group has taken to meeting over the months, and where Jean gets dragged regularly anyway because for some ungodly reason, Eren cemented his title as a terrible human being by deciding that it's the best waffle place in town, and that he and Jean'd better have dates there often. Jean's not even mad about it, because in that time he's managed to learn that, actually, they serve pretty good pancakes.

After Jean tells everyone in their group of idiots of his decision, Eren's stuck pretending not to be smug about it and being really bad at it for about twenty minutes. At which point Jean kicks his leg as an act of courtesy, to reboot whatever's left of his brain.

"Y'know," he says, all casual, when Marco asks about his motives with some very raised eyebrows that Jean's doing his best to ignore. "So I can put back together whoever Eren decides to argue with."

Eren hasn't really been getting into fights as much since he discovered that doing so might end up with him shifting and ripping some rando's face off, so most people at the table just roll their eyes at Jean's astonishing wit. He does get a rare smile out of Mikasa, even though Eren hasn't had a single unfortunate incident involving humans and his wolf form since that one hiker. Unless you count him napping on Jean's bed, forgetting to wash the sheets, and giving Jean the most painful allergy attack of his life - which Jean definitely does.

He also gets a muttered _love you too, asshole_ from Eren in response. Where Jean of a few months ago would have just shrugged it off, the Jean of the Now is a self-actualized, emotionally intelligent man, of the likes who can decipher even Eren Jaeger's love language. He grabs Eren's hand under the table and winks, and Eren's mouth twitches.

Later, when all their friends have left, Eren talks Jean into buying him another waffle and then crawls into his lap to kiss him in thanks, unashamed as per usual. The waitress that somehow always end up assigned to their table makes a U-turn and disappears back into the kitchen.

"Aren't you getting a bit tired of dog jokes?" Eren says, huffing against Jean's mouth.

"Remember when I wore that eye patch for my presentation on piracy, and you hummed the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack everytime you saw me for months after?" Jean replies. The _hypocrisy_. But because he's the best fucking boyfriend ever and he's been trying to be a better person, too, he decides he might as well cut Eren some slack. "Whatever, I'll try to keep my hilarious comments to myself. Now stop peeing- excuse me, beating around the bush and tell me what you wanna do next year. Don't think I didn't notice you avoiding Mikasa's question earlier, and you _said_ you've made a decision already."

"Can still take it back," Eren mumbles, clamming up with that stubborn dip of his eyebrows.

But Jean's now, as stated, a fucking genius at reading one Eren Jaeger. He's also always been pretty good at reading between the lines.

"Same college?" he says, not bothering to hide how he brightens up. He's already mentally writing his roommate request form by when Eren nods, almost smiling. "I told you you'd get in, idiot. What are you in for?"

There's a surprisingly long stretch of silence. Jean can feel his own eyebrows rising almost to his hairline, because Eren's not, as a rule, this hesitant on doing anything. Except for maybe things related to his wolf form, like that one time he admitted to Jean that he'd been munching on the dog bone Jean had gotten him as a joke, and it's not like Eren's going to-

"Pre-vet," Eren finally says, sullenly.

And Jean laughs and laughs and _laughs_.


End file.
